


Four Times Their Friends Thought They Were A Thing, and One Time They Didn't

by elfkinwoods



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Comedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, I wrote this instead of my dissertation, Misunderstandings, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfkinwoods/pseuds/elfkinwoods
Summary: The first time, like all the worst first times within their little gang, was all Gwaine’s fault. Gwaine, and alcohol. Surely you cannot imagine the two things without each other.‘So, you and Arthur fucked, right?’ was the eloquent opening. Merlin choked on his beer. Coughing violently, he felt Gwen’s hand gently patting him on the back.‘What?’ said Merlin, between coughs. Gwaine winked, flashing out a shit-eating grin, and put an arm around Merlin like an affectionate brother. ‘He’s shy!’ he squeezed Merlin’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Merlin, I know Pendragon’s an ass, but imagine – half the university’s after that ass.’
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon/Vivian (Merlin), Gwaine/Morgana (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 366





	Four Times Their Friends Thought They Were A Thing, and One Time They Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of rushed this in one afternoon as I realised with horror that I hadn't produced a single Merthur fic in 2019, and here it is! I hope you enjoy it, and I'd really appreciate it if you want to leave your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> The descriptions of Camelot University are loosely based on my own uni. Extra points to you if you can recognise it!
> 
> I am very grateful to Daisy, the most patient and wonderful beta/editor！ 
> 
> Happy New Year every one!

The first time, like all the worst first times within their little gang, was all Gwaine’s fault. Gwaine, and alcohol. Surely you cannot imagine the two things without each other.

‘So, you and Arthur fucked, right?’ was the eloquent opening. Merlin choked on his beer. Coughing violently, he felt Gwen’s hand gently patting him on the back.

‘What?’ said Merlin, between coughs. Gwaine winked, flashing out a shit-eating grin, and put an arm around Merlin like an affectionate brother. ‘He’s shy!’ he squeezed Merlin’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Merlin, I know Pendragon’s an ass, but imagine – half the university’s after that ass.’

‘Gwaine, please stop.’ Merlin protested, pushing Gwaine’s arm away. However, having downed two vodka shots already, Gwaine was unusually enthusiastic about waxing poetry about the shape and size of Arthur Pendragon’s posterior and why he thought it was a good idea for Merlin to get better acquainted with it.

‘I’m so livetweeting this.’ Morgana had taken out her phone. ‘Hashtag “GwainebeingGwaine”. Although it is rather concerning to hear you talk about my brother that way.’

‘Talk about me in what way?’

At that moment Arthur stepped back in, and sat down opposite Merlin and Gwen. Gwaine smirked. Merlin buried his face in his hands.

They were all in the bar that evening, fresh-faced with the excitement from the Matriculation, which had been a big fuss from the university’s point of view. A lot of speeches were made; a lot of ancient locations were visited in ceremonial honour; a lot of rules were learned and then promptly broken. Merlin’s ears were still ringing from all that chanting they had been welcomed and then semi-forced to join in with earlier that day, representatives from each college yelling at the top of their voices trying to out-chant the others. He had been shy at first, timidly looking around at the crowd, trying to make out the words of his college chant from all that noise, until Gwaine leapt over towards him and swept him up into the midst of the college crowd, making up words for the chant as they went along. Some people frowned or laughed in surprise when they noticed the increasing bawdiness in Gwaine’s improvised chanting, and Merlin blushed horribly for his sake. For a fleeting moment, he turned his head away from his friend, and spotted Arthur Pendragon, his black-gown drooping majestically over his shoulders, his face golden in the warm October sunlight. Standing on the alcove of the Matriculation Bridge, surrounded by cheers and laughter, he looked, and was, the ‘chosen one’.

‘Prat.’ Muttered Merlin under his breath. Arthur, who happened to look his way as well, seemed to have caught that word from the distance and rolled his eyes. They had not had a good start, to be sure. On the first day of Freshers Week, Merlin had accidently bumped into Arthur and knocked him down in the process, spilling hot chocolate all over his shirt. Merlin had been more than ready to apologise, but somehow Arthur’s yelling attitude led him to retorting back with equal fury, and they had a good five minutes of heated quarrelling in the common room. Multiple insults were exchanged with sincerity, and, as Arthur stormed back upstairs for a change of clothes, Merlin had firmly made up his mind never to cross paths with this royal prat of a posh toff ever again.

As if destiny wanted to make a total joke out of him, the next minute two second-years approached him from another corner of the room. ‘You must be Merlin.’ said the taller one, a mischievous smile curling around her lips. ‘We’ve been looking for you – I’m Morgana, and this is Gwen. We’re your college parents.’

‘Wait, don’t I know you from somewhere…?’ Merlin tried hard to recall when he had seen Morgana’s face before. The other girl, Gwen, smiled with open friendliness. ‘Of course, Morgana and her YouTube channel! I get this almost daily and frankly, Merlin, I would advise you to get used to the Pendragon spotlight. They are always the centre of attention in some way.’

‘Well, I’m only half a Pendragon and why not make good use of the spotlight if people love me this much?’ Morgana turned back to Merlin. ‘I see you’ve already met my brother Arthur, the real drama queen of the family; unfortunately, this isn’t college – he is my actual brother by blood. He really is an idiot, and I’m a proud mum already to see you so capable of kicking him in the arse – he needs that sometimes. I’m sure we’ll like you immensely, and please like us too – Gwen here is the sweetest soul in the world and I don’t _ always _ bite. Anyway, it’s really nice meeting you, and we’ll definitely see you again very soon at Meet the Parents. We just need to find our other college kid now and hopefully they’re not lost in the too many cultural heritage sites in town.’

With that, Morgana and Gwen joyfully squeezed themselves into Merlin’s newly founded friend group. Freya, their other college child, a first-year studying Ancient Civilisations, struck up an easy camaraderie with Merlin. Gwaine, who had known Merlin since sixth form, stayed loyal despite his ever-expanding circle of friends. They later discovered that Gwen’s boyfriend, Lancelot, was also Gwaine’s college dad. In spite of, or perhaps because of, the startling contrast between shy, polite, sweet-tempered teetotaller Lance and reckless, loud ‘drink-till-blind’ Gwaine, they became fast friends from the beginning. Merlin spent the first few days of his Freshers Week with these new friends and enjoyed the novel aspects of university life with great curiosity. There were numerous societies to sign up for, induction lectures to go to, clubs to get drunk and practice drunk dancing in until everyone’d embarrassed themselves in some fashion (except Gwaine, who had no sense of shame), slightly awkward corridor games, and hugely awkward texting (‘it’s 4pm why are my neighbours having sex???’). Life no longer followed that quiet, steady flow it had back in Ealdor, but Merlin welcomed the change.

Of course, there was also Arthur. After that first encounter Merlin had only seen him a couple of times, in-between the dazzling varieties of Freshers to-dos. Somehow, they had managed to pick up a quarrel every time, over ridiculously small things. The second time it happened, they had fixated on their favourite insults for one another – Arthur called Merlin the clumsiest idiot in the world, and Merlin, rather more succinctly, called him a royal clotpole. They annoyed each other exceedingly, having different opinions on almost everything and each trying to prove the other wrong. Morgana found their banter tremendous fun and joked, or rather threatened, about livestreaming it on her YouTube channel, which, to make matters worse or better, had 20k followers from across the world.

Which brings us back to the bar on the evening of Matriculation Day. Morgana had already finished her _ #GwainebeingGwaine _ Tweets and was presently showing Gwen the comments from her followers. Gwaine was whistling at Arthur, who looked confused.

‘Someone care to tell me what’s going on?’ he looked at everyone questioningly, his gaze finally landing on Merlin, who was still hiding behind his hands. ‘What’s Merlin done? Please don’t tell me you’ve destroyed yet another one of my belongings.’

Gwaine burst into laughter. Merlin groaned.

‘Gwaine thinks you guys are a thing.’ Freya said, sipping her drink calmly.

‘What?’

‘That’s not how I put it, however, that is the gist of it.’ grinned Gwaine, leaning closer towards Arthur. ‘Tell me, Pendragon, did you take our Merlin’s virtue before first week even ended?’

‘Gwaine!’ Merlin re-emerged from behind his hands. ‘Arthur and I did not sleep together. I don’t know where you got the impression, but no, we’re not “a thing”.’

‘Please, Gwaine, _ Merlin _of all people!’ Arthur gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Some people might have fetishes for elf ears and bad fashion sense, but believe me, I’m not one of them.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Merlin glared at Arthur. ‘As if anyone with a spark of sanity left would want to sleep with a royal prat whose ego is the size of the Ozone Hole.’

‘Livestreaming, keep it up boys.’ A very gleeful Morgana held up her phone again.

* * *

The second time it happened, it was still alcohol’s fault – only this time Merlin just had himself to blame.

First term swept by as if flying on a witch’s broom. Apart from the dutiful chaos of the first couple of weeks – getting lost half-way to lectures, entering the wrong seminar rooms, going to too many society events and then deciding which ones to quit – everything fell into a nice routine. Merlin finally remembered the correct routes to all his contact hours, quit most of the societies save a few that he really enjoyed, and missed none of his formative or summative assignments. He made quite a few new friends within his department, but the little gang from Freshers Week stayed close and hung out together regularly. The first-years all lived in college anyway, and had since spent many a long evening sitting around on the common room bean bags, playing video games and chatting about kings and cabbages. Somehow, despite all appearances, Merlin and Arthur became friends. They still quarrelled and raged and annoyed each other exceedingly, and made such creative use of insulting language that Freya once said the English department ought to open a new module for them. Arthur still couldn’t understand how Merlin could rotate on two pairs of jeans and a bunch of faded T shirts for a entire year, whereas Merlin refused to believe in the concept of dress code and mercilessly laughed at Arthur for always being impeccably dressed. It was rare that they had a conversation without at least one of them getting offended, although that soon developed into more of an automatic response than anything heartfelt. Their friends quickly got used to them and laughed fondly whenever their debate got a bit too heated, trusting them never to actually leave a fight with resentment, as it was clear that they had built up a connection, if not a regular friendship. Deep down Arthur wasn’t really the twat he portrayed to be. In all fairness he was kind and just, if a little arrogant sometimes. The little intricacies of human nature puzzled Merlin in the back of his mind, as he reflected on the things he bonded over with Arthur. There were trivial things, things like one specific song, or one type of cheese, amongst the vast number of similar things that they fervently disagreed on. There were also bigger things, things closer to the fundamental secrets and fears in their hearts, that they found themselves drawn together by. Such times were not often but enough; at least they were enough to leave Merlin feeling something settle inside him, tucking the corners of his soul safely back in place. Whenever this happened Arthur would always drop from the posh twat façade he usually wore as comfortably as his own skin, and all of a sudden he was not the golden boy of the Pendragons anymore, just Arthur, with his boyish grin and just a tint of shy self-consciousness, unsure how to offer kindness and always making himself emotionally constipated, but nevertheless beaming with the sunlight from within. 

In late November they attended a ‘social’ together. The college pub quiz society organised it; no one else in their little gang were members, and it was just them with the rest of the crowd. The society tradition was to do a bar crawl all the way from the hills down to the centre part of town. It was a merry event, people usually getting drunk after the third bar and fifth round of drinking games. Merlin had decided to let himself go just a little, having finished two exhausting assignments that week. By the time they reached the town colleges, he was already singing like a sailor, eyes watery with the amount of laughter he had been executing. As their troupe marched through the doors of their fourth bar, Merlin tripped over himself on the threshold, and felt a hand on his elbow, steadying him.

‘Arthur!’ he turned around happily. ‘Why the sullen face tonight, sire?’ For Arthur had not been drinking at all that night, despite constant nudging from the other people at the social. Merlin tried to focus his gaze and noticed that Arthur looked a bit different, but he couldn’t fathom it out.

‘Only you, Merlin, has the talent of being the clumsiest fool in the world.’ Arthur sighed, watching Merlin trying to show the student bar staff his campus card and somehow getting entangled with his wallet and the many layers of bus tickets, shopping receipts, and headphone cables in his pocket. ‘Here, hand me your campus card – apologies for Merlin, he’s just being an idiot, as usual.’ Arthur told the small queue behind them. His tone was not insulting, and if Merlin had not been so tipsy already, he might have even called it affectionate – but surely Arthur Pendragon did not have the emotional capacity of such a thing.

What Arthur Pendragon did have, apparently, was the Pendragon spotlight that Gwen had warned them about back in Freshers Week. A couple of third-years recognised Arthur as they approached the bar counter, and came over to talk to him. Merlin couldn’t quite make out what they were saying – it seemed as if they had met while rowing or something, for of course Arthur Bloody Pendragon was on the university rowing team, as if the many other metaphorical halos they had cast on his head were nowhere near enough. Merlin watched Arthur talk with the rowing lads absent-mindedly, his own thoughts flowing far beyond the surfaces of that little college bar. Occasionally he wondered why Arthur did not appear as animated as usual, and why his eyes looked a bit sad. His laugh was forced, and his shoulders were tense. Merlin dreamily considered whether it would be a recommendable idea just to move over and join in, but his head was far too deep in the clouds for him to make such an effort.

Until the blurred tones of Arthur’s conversation with the rowing team got somewhat intense, and he suddenly heard someone laughing with undeniable sarcasm, ‘…back into Mummy’s arms, Pendragon.’

As if someone had just thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over him, Merlin sobered up from his dreams, as Arthur visibly tensed, his face white, and his eyes cold.

‘My mother is dead, Cenred. She has been since I was born.’ His voice was quiet, and yet it sent a forcible pang through Merlin’s heart. Arthur stood up and left the bar without a word, not caring to see the look on Cenred’s face. Merlin quickly put down his pint and followed, almost knocking down three people on the way out, before finally falling down over the threshold. For a moment everything went dizzy, and the world started spinning around. Merlin held his head in his hands and waited for the sudden sense of nausea to end.

Through cringing he saw a pair of legs that could only have belonged to Arthur stopping in front of him. Arthur bent down beside him, holding out a hand.

‘Merlin? Are you OK?’ he almost sounded worried, thought Merlin. For some unfathomable reason that made him a little giddy.

‘’m fine.’ Taking hold of Arthur’s hand, Merlin got back on his feet, but the swirling and spinning hadn’t entirely stopped, and it was difficult to keep his eyes open without the burning urge to be violently sick. Arthur came closer and let Merlin lean on him. ‘Let’s sit down by the pavement. You obviously need some fresh air.’

Arthur led him across the narrow street and sat Merlin down on the stone pavement, adjusting his head so that it was able to rest on Arthur’s knees. The texture of denim felt comforting against Merlin’s cheek. Arthur smelled of laundry detergent, the cheap type that all the washing machines in their college used; it was a refreshing smell, mixed with something that was neither perfume or shampoo, just quite distinctively _ Arthur _, and Merlin began to feel a little better.

‘I’m sorry,’ He said quietly. ‘about what they said in the bar –’

‘Never mind that, Merlin. Get some rest.’

‘No, I want to say this.’ Merlin looked up at Arthur’s face. He had never looked at Arthur this up close before. Loose strands of hair fell in Arthur’s forehead, giving him an almost child-like look. His eyes, ocean-blue turned dark in the soft yellowing glow of the street lights, looked tired and worried. Something about the corners of his mouth told Merlin that Arthur was keeping something down, something sad and bitter.

‘Arthur, it’s not OK for them to say things like that, and I’m really sorry this happened to you because they’re all bullshit anyway – you are twice the person they can ever mount up to be, you know. Actually, if you are twice person each of them can be, should that be six times in total?’ Merlin’s head began to ache at the calculation. ‘Gods, mathematics and alcohol are not a good combination.’

Arthur’s eyes softened, as he let out a half-smirk. ‘You’ve had far too much tonight, Merlin. Such a lightweight.’

‘Prat.’ Merlin turned his head and laid his burning cheek on Arthur’s knee once again. ‘Anyway, it’s bad, I know, people just saying things like that without thinking. Maybe not necessarily with malice, but still bad.’

‘You’re hardly making sense.’

‘I may be a bit drunk but I haven’t entirely lost the power of speech, you clotpole. You know I am making perfect sense – OK maybe not perfect because nothing is perfect, not even your royal arse, Arthur, no matter what the tabloids and the uni confession page on Facebook say about it. Seriously, those people have a problem. But anyway, back to what I was saying – I’m really sorry, Arthur.’

‘About what? The sheer number of confessions I’ve got dedicated to my arse on that Facebook page?’ Arthur smiled. Merlin sighed impatiently, squirming as if to find a more comfortable spot on top of Arthur’s knees, and stayed still and silent for several moments.

‘I never met my dad either, you know.’

This wasn’t something he was used to sharing. Unlike Lady Igraine, whose death had hit the national news eighteen years before after she gave birth to the Uther Pendragon’s first-born, Balinor’s disappearance from the monotonous village life in Ealdor left no records, except in Hunith’s heart. He had left a series of unfinished comic books, about Dragonlords and their adventures, and Merlin had grown up reading them, never suspecting the familiarity he had always sensed in the works was something akin to his own blood. Hunith had told him very little about his father, only that he had left for a reason, and that they had been very happy once upon a time. Merlin had asked many questions in his childhood, although sensing the distress and pain in Hunith’s voice whenever questions about his father popped up, he soon learned to stop asking them. His childhood lacked no love from his kin, for Hunith was the best mother heart could desire, and Uncle Gaius, who had taught at Camelot University until the previous year, had always been kind to him. But the absence of Balinor still left a mark on him, usually well hidden, and certainly not ready to be blurted out on the streets when he was miserably drunk, but he did it anyway, that settled feeling tugging at him again, telling him to trust Arthur. Arthur needed this. A voice in his head, wiser, older, and more insightful than Merlin would have believed in himself, saw through the mask Arthur had been wearing all day, and offered him a moment of equal vulnerability. Bare, candid truth and raw emotions could be hurtful things, but in that freezing November air circling around everyone who still ventured to stay outside, they didn’t seem to matter so much.

Arthur listened in silence, his fingers brushing Merlin’s hair absent-mindedly from time to time. When Merlin had finished, Arthur sighed very deeply, and spoke again, almost in a whisper.

‘My father never speaks of her, and never lets me ask about her. It is…difficult. Sometimes he seems to believe it was my fault that she died. I know it’s not, but there are times I believe it too.’

‘Arthur.’ Merlin grasped his hand, trying to find words to respond, but Arthur just squeezed his hand and continued.

‘I have no memory of her, save for one my aunt Nimueh told me. She told me my mother looked very proud when they presented me to her and asked everyone around whether I wasn’t the sweetest baby in the world. Well, I guess a lot of mothers say that, but that memory seems to live in me, and I could see that smile on her face, even though I couldn’t have been able to actually remember it.’

‘I’m sure it is real, in a way.’ Merlin whispered too, and sat up a little so he could give Arthur a half-hug. They remained closely pressed together for a while, still sitting on that pavement, comfortable in the surprising profundity in their new confidences. Neither of them said much more, apart from a couple of half-hearted jokes aimed at the groups of drunk students passing by. The stone-cobbled street echoed all their young, careless laughter, having seen many generations of these in the past few centuries.

‘Don’t fall asleep here.’

‘I know. I’m just resting my eyes.’ Merlin settled his head on Arthur’s shoulder, letting the first wave of drowsiness slowly consume him, leaving a thin trace of consciousness connecting him to Arthur and the world. It was all very calming, and very nice, and he really hadn’t felt this comfortable in a while, despite the chilly wind persisting in getting into his collar. Merlin smiled, content to let sleep take him just for a minute…

‘Well, well, isn’t this a romantic place for a date!’ Morgana’s voice rang loud and clear. Merlin’s eyes snapped open.

Morgana was standing in front of them, apparently on her way to clubbing, looking like all her Christmas presents had been pre-ordered, wrapped up, and delivered to her doors at the same time. Beside her were Gwen and Lancelot, both smiling at the Arthur and Merlin with friendly amusement.

‘How come I didn’t know about this?’ demanded Morgana, in a tone that might have killed and led her to a witch trial in the Middle Ages.

‘About what?’ Arthur was already helping Merlin up. ‘Merlin’s got himself drunk again, and I’m just being friendly so he doesn’t die here out in the cold.’

‘Shocking as it sounds to my own ears, that’s actually true.’ Merlin gave a sheepish smile, but Morgana was not to be fooled.

‘I know there’s something going on between the two of you, and I will find out.’ She said in her low, threatening voice, while Gwen and Lance exchanged a look of exasperated fondness.

‘Let them be, Morgana.’ Gwen stepped closer and tugged at Morgana’s elbow. ‘It’s their own business, after all, and we really wouldn’t want to keep Morgause and Gwaine waiting. I shudder to think what those two can get up to when we’re not there.’

‘There’s nothing going on between me and Arthur!’

Lance gave Merlin a look that clearly said ‘been there, done that, I got you mate’. Merlin shook his head incredulously as the trio walked away into town, and turned to Arthur, wishing to voice his opinion on Morgana’s gossip-seeking nature.

And then proceeded to vomit all over Arthur’s shoes.

* * *

The third time was a long while after the vomiting incident, for which Arthur made Merlin hand-wash and clean his shoes for a whole week. Apart from that, they had been best friends since that night. Yes, there were still fights and quarrels and creative insults, but they were more of a type of friendly banter. More often than not they would stay close together on weekend nights and form a little bubble of themselves, either going out with their friends, or staying in streaming films on Netflix in the cinema room at the back corner of their junior common room. Gwaine called their way of interaction scandalous flirting, but then Gwaine saw this kind of thing in everyone, so no one paid him much attention.

They were packing down their stalls at the Freshers Fair. Merlin had been elected Publicity Officer of the pub quiz society the previous summer, and began his second year of university setting up publicity campaigns for the new freshers. It brought up a strange feeling, watching all those first-years strolling around stall by stall, most of whom looking a little bit lost or overwhelmed by the structure of the student union building. They had a fair number of sign-ups, and Merlin was trying to estimate how many of these people would actually stay throughout the academic year, when Gwaine and Arthur came over from the sports section, with a towering giant of a fresher behind them.

‘Merlin, long time no see, my beautiful man. I’ve brought you treasures.’ Gwaine climbed over Merlin’s half-packed stall and hugged him in an overtly dramatic manner. Arthur winced behind them.

‘Nice to see you too, Gwaine.’ Merlin laughed, letting go of him, and turned to Arthur, who just nodded, making no gesture whatsoever. They had seen each other two days before, both having come back up to Camelot a bit early. There was no need to create all that ‘long time no see’ atmosphere. That much was as clear as written in Arthur’s face, even just to make a contrast to Gwaine. Merlin smiled a little at Arthur.

‘This is Percy.’ said Arthur, and the tall fresher shook hands with Merlin. ‘We had a nice chat over there and he seems to be interested in the pub quiz society as well, so we thought we’d take him here.’

‘Then you’re certainly in the right place! Although we’re just packing up now – wait, let me get my laptop out and you can leave us your email on that damned spreadsheet.’ Merlin squatted down to retrieve his laptop from his bag, which was under the table. ‘Arthur, the leaflets: take one from each pile in the purple bag and hand them over to Percy. Everything he needs to know should be on there.’

‘You keep forgetting you don’t get to give orders here, Merlin.’ Nevertheless, Arthur did sort out the leaflets and gave Percy what he needed, as Merlin resurfaced from under the table, hair tousled and face dusty, laptop in hand.

‘Oh right, because you do, _ sire _.’ said Merlin with an exaggerated bow, handing Percy the laptop to register his email. Percy watched with great interest as Arthur walked behind the table and kicked Merlin squarely in the bottom.

‘You are such a cabbage head.’ growled Merlin, turning back to Percy as he finished. ‘Anyway, welcome to the society! We endeavour to offer a friendly, inclusive atmosphere for everyone, and we hope you feel comfortable coming to our events and enjoy them. We are all nice people here, unlike some simple-minded arrogant fool they’ve got on the rowing team, and I do advise you to be careful hanging out with that lot.’

From then on he and Arthur got into another round of their daily exchange of insults, during which Arthur helped Merlin pack down the entire stall, sorted out all the bags and banners, decided on dinner at Morgana and Gwen’s house, and fired some mutual insults at Gwaine, who had been giving Percy tips on how to best observe ‘the Arthur and Merlin show’.

‘You’ll soon get use to them if you hang around.’ Gwaine was apparently nonchalant to whatever insult that came his way. Percy looked at them with mild curiosity.

‘So how long have you two been together?’

Both of them laughed. ‘We’re not a couple, for heaven’s sake.’ said Arthur. ‘I’m sorry to break it to you this way, Percy, but I have standards.’

‘And by standards he means people just as good as making a fool of themselves. Fortunately that rules me out.’ Merlin said with great solemnity.

‘Oh, I’m really sorry – I assumed…’ Percy blushed, but Gwaine interrupted him impatiently.

‘Not your fault, mate. These two are just oblivious, and it is agonising to watch that sexual tension grow between them.’

‘You thought Morgause and Morgana had a thing when you first met them, and they’re cousins. I hardly think your opinion on this matter deserves any validation.’ The look on Merlin’s face was more pity than exasperation. ‘Get some help, Gwaine.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past Morgana though.’ Gwaine seemed genuinely pensive. ‘I adore Morgana, but that woman is a witch, if there ever is one. You have to admit she and Morgause are incredibly close, and how was I to know they were cousins?’

‘Ew, stop that.’ Arthur shuddered. ‘If you don’t shut up right now, I’m going to send Morgana that video of you from Summer Ball and ask her to put in on her channel. And I mean it.’

‘All right, all right…Come on, Percy, let’s leave and allow these two some privacy. Just be careful with all this university property if you get too engaged in it.’

A week later Morgana’s YouTube channel gained a thousand more followers.

* * *

The fourth time was actually pretty bad, for at the time Arthur was sort of dating Vivian.

It wasn’t that Merlin objected to Vivian. All right, she was pretty objectionable, being insolent and snobbish, and she seemed to have made a habit out of never taking Merlin seriously. But that wasn’t the point. He certainly didn’t object to Arthur dating whomever he liked – there had been Mithian in first year and Bedivere in second year, and Merlin liked both of them. He had been more miserable than Arthur when these relationships ended, and Arthur ended up having to comfort _ him _ instead. The thing was, with Mithian and Bedivere around, Merlin had never felt anything standing between his friendship with Arthur. They had always been _ Arthur and Merlin _, and that was enough, no matter how many dates Arthur brought back home. They still had their usual banter and their private, subtle moments. They had been through ups and downs, comedies and tragedies. Arthur was the one that stayed by Merlin’s side throughout Hunith’s illness and later funeral, even outdoing his childhood friend Will. Arthur alone knew how to drag Merlin out of the depths of grief and perpetual gloom, made him do his dissertation in time, and firmly sent him through a full set of counselling sessions with the university. Likewise, when Arthur got kicked out of the house after a bad fallout with Uther for coming out, Merlin was the one to take him back to Ealdor over their second summer, and fought many ugly battles with Uther for Arthur’s sake, with even more audacity and determination than Morgana. They spent an unforgettable time in Hunith’s old cottage that summer: the first in twenty years without her warm smiles and gentle words, and the first for Arthur and Merlin to realise there was so much more than blood that was thicker than water. They had shed many tears and shared many laughs. In the end, they managed to rebuild some of the bridges that had been burned between Arthur and his father. Maybe it was the heart attack the previous winter that triggered something in Uther, although Morgana insisted it was mostly Merlin’s doing; around Christmas, a cold, stern, albeit accepting Uther opened his doors to Arthur again. Life wasn’t easy after that, but Merlin found himself content, as long as that closeness with Arthur was still settled in his chest.

Vivian entered their life nearing their graduation. She wasn’t Arthur’s usual type – more like the exact opposite, to be fair. Merlin suspected it to be a short-term thing and told himself there was nothing to worry about, as he and Arthur were still as close as ever. Still, the prospect of graduation brought up so many questions and doubts about the future. Changes were always developing, and who knew what was to come in the next couple of weeks? Merlin couldn’t quite make out the tight feeling in his throat when Arthur told him he was going to take Vivian with him to the engagement party for Gwen and Lance – another change marking a new chapter in life for their friends.

The party took place at the end of Merlin’s third year. Everyone from their little gang came, even Freya, who was just finishing her year abroad in France. She brought with her gifts and hugs for everyone, and many anecdotes from her great French adventure. ‘But I missed so many things back here! Look at Gwen and Lance! When I left for France they’d only been dating for two years, and now they’re engaged. What else have I missed? Matches? Mayhem? Morgana finally claiming her rights to the throne?’

‘To all our disappointment, not yet.’ Morgana tossed her head. ‘Although I can’t promise such a thing will never happen. It'll mean good things for this country.’

‘Speak for yourself, Morgana.’ With a swift glance at Gwaine, Arthur laughed. ‘I’m sure only _ some _of us would be happy about such a dark and gloomy future for this country.’

‘Speaking of matches, though, Gwen and Lance are not the only happy lovebirds in this room.’ Merlin said, meeting Arthur’s eyes and smiled in mutual understanding. It had been a secret that they discovered together, quite by accident, when Arthur invited Merlin back to the old Pendragon estate for the Easter holidays. They stumbled across Gwaine and Morgana in Uther’s library, who were doing questionable things to the leather-bound Victorian novel sets, and everyone was left aghast for a painfully long moment, until Merlin finally recovered some sense and dragged Arthur away before he could hurl anything such as the French-Latin dictionary at Gwaine’s head. Awkwardness followed them around for the next few days, with a completely oblivious Uther occasionally making matters worse by pointing it out at the breakfast table. Finally, Gwaine the Morgana gave in and revealed that this had lasted throughout the Epiphany term, and asked Merlin and Arthur to keep their secret for a little while longer.

‘But why do you want to keep it a secret?’

‘Because this might just be a fling and we don’t want anyone to know in case we split up.’ said Morgana, business-like; Gwaine nodded beside her. ‘You know what the rest of the gang are like – Gwen would probably pick our baby names before we even finish telling her, and Lance would certainly want to be best man at our wedding. Freya’s still in France but she’d be just as bad if she knew. The very thought of it makes my blood run cold. If, however, this does keep up, which I doubt – we’ll probably tell them at the end of the academic year.’ Throughout her monologue Morgana looked as if she had been talking about assigning tasks for the most cold-blooded assassins, instead of her budding romance, and probably something in her tone made Arthur and Merlin felt they were compelled to keep that secret, in avoidance of possible tragic deaths.

But it was already the end of the academic year, and Morgana and Gwaine had kept up their relationship, although they constantly doubted it. Morgana had half-agreed to let Merlin and Arthur to stop being the secret keepers at the engagement party, still too embarrassed to let herself admit in front of everyone of having actual feelings. What better opportunity than this moment? Every friend they cared about was present, although perhaps apart from Arthur’s plus one Vivian, who was talking to the bartender in another corner.

It was a meaningful look that Arthur gave back to Merlin. ‘Do you think we should tell them?’

Merlin grinned. ‘I think it’s high time they were told.’

‘I agree; it’s been such a pain trying to keep it a secret.’ Arthur turned to look at Morgana. ‘Although maybe we should let M –’

But Freya interrupted him, her eyes shining in rapture.

‘Oh, I knew it! I knew this would happen!’ she shouted excitedly, her gaze shifting between Merlin and Arthur in turns. ‘I’m so happy for the both of you. I’ve always thought you were simply made for each other. Despite what Gwaine says, I do think you’re adorable.’ She hugged them both like a happy child whose wish had finally been granted, leaving Arthur and Merlin gaping in blankness.

To say the scene turned a bit dramatic from here would be an understatement. Vivian, at that precise moment, came back to the table with her drink, and heard everything Freya had just said. Having never been burdened with much tact or empathy, Vivian decided the best action to take was to throw her drink in Arthur’s face.

‘I know we’re not that serious, Arthur, but next time at least make up your own mind before making your move!’ she said, with the indisputable air of 90s soap opera, and if someone were to film her it would probably make a good cut. ‘And I’ve always wondered what that would feel like.’ She waved the empty glass in her hand. ‘Now I can tell you it’s a lot of fun.’

And then she stormed airily out of the party.

Arthur, now smelling of strawberry and gin, let out a feeble ‘Vivian?’ and remained in his seat, obviously still not recovering from the shower. He looked every bit as silly as a jilted hero in those old TV series did, and it really was supposed to be a comedic scene, but Merlin suddenly felt out of place, and hot, burning tears threatened to well up from behind his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to keep them back, and stood up as well.

‘Excuse me, I just need some air.’ Exited Merlin, not realising the extent of drama he was adding to the scene.

‘I’d better check on Merlin.’ Exited Arthur, completing the full cycle of leaving the room in dramatic tension.

The rest of the gang stared at each other in silence for a while, until Gwaine broke the ice.

‘Well, if you have to know, Morgana and I are shagging.’

* * *

No one even thought about a fifth time.

‘Never, ever are we making any indication about those two being a thing any more. Never.’ Gwen sounded stern, which was rare and rather alerting. ‘Look at what we’ve done – Arthur and Merlin stopped talking. It’s all our fault, ruining a great friendship such as theirs.’

For once Gwaine agreed, as did everyone else in the gang. After that episode at the engagement party, everyone had avoided bringing Arthur and Merlin into the same room for a brief period of time, letting them digest the outburst of awkwardness on their own. However, as weeks went by, they became a little concerned.

‘Merlin’s not coming to Lance’s promotion party.’ Gwen was putting down her grocery bags in the kitchen as she called Morgana. ‘He’s going on a field trip with his supervisor, so I guess there’s very little he could do about it. He did send a nice card though.’

‘My idiot of a brother can’t make it either.’ Gwen could almost see Morgana roll her eyes on the other side of the phone. ‘Business meeting with Lothian, apparently. With Uther ill he really does have to take on a lot. He told me to send regards and bring a bottle of wine.’

‘What is this? The third time they both bailed on us? They missed Gwaine’s birthday, Freya’s first job, and now this.’

‘They think they’re subtle, but a blind person can see it – I wish they wouldn’t be so childish about avoiding each other. Have you tried talking to Merlin about it?’

‘Believe me, I did everything I could. But every time I even mention Arthur’s name, he gets jumpy and stares at me with those Bambi eyes, and then I start to feel like the hunter that killed Bambi’s mum. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him. What about Arthur?’

‘As much of a stubborn arse as ever.’ Morgana said. ‘Sometimes I do feel the urge to snap his neck and crack open his stupid skull just to knock some sense into him. If I ever become Queen that’ll be my first order.’

‘What, cracking open Arthur’s skull?’ laughed Gwen. ‘Really, have a think – it’d be a far better idea to order those two to just talk to each other.’

However, seven months went by and Morgana was still no more in line to the throne than Justin Bieber would ever be. Merlin and Arthur came up with more irritatingly indisputable excuses for not being able to make it to their gatherings, and no one in the friend group had seen them together at all, despite the many attempts. The opportunity to give orders, though, finally came upon Gwen.

‘Both of you have to be there, and I’ll accept nothing but a yes. If you miss this one, I’ll hunt you both down and give you a good spanking that you deserve.’

‘You’ve been spending too much time with Morgana.’ Arthur protested over the phone. ‘If you keep talking like this I’ll start fearing for Lance and the poor baby. But I’ll be there, you have my word. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to practice Uncle Arthur’s grand entrance for your big day.’

Gwen thought she heard some muffled laughter that sounded strangely familiar as Arthur hung up the phone, but it might just have been part of the pregnancy exhaustion.

When Gwen’s baby girl was born three weeks later, everyone gathered around once more to celebrate the occasion. Both Arthur and Merlin were there, civil to the point of unnaturalness, as if they barely knew each other. However, the treasured moments of the day belonged to the new family, and they both glowed with pride for Gwen and Lancelot, as did the rest of their friends. Morgana burst into tears most uncharacteristically at the sight of the baby, and Gwaine had never looked so sober and solemn as it came to his turn of holding it. Freya had composed a little song, which echoed beautifully in the hospital wing. No one quite remembered about the sub-task of making Merlin and Arthur talk to each other and be friends again. This new chapter was not about them, and everyone thought Gwen and Lancelot, along with their first-born, deserved to enjoy the attention fully for the day.

Until Gwaine noticed Merlin and Arthur had been holding hands for heaven knows how long beside them.

‘So, you guys finally fucked, right?’ said Gwaine with a shit-eating grin.

Morgana shrieked, murderous in her rage, and Gwen promptly kicked the four of them out of the room, trusting Morgana to deal with the situation.

After all, one baby was quite enough to go through.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Note: two of Arthur's previous relationships are mentioned briefly in the story.
> 
> Special thanks to Kate for suggesting the livetweeting idea and the hashtag!


End file.
